


Accident

by Walor



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: I suppose, M/M, domestic AU, if you all thought this was a serious fic you're wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-10 21:44:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2041317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Walor/pseuds/Walor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Waylon has to give Miles credit though, the man had impeccable timing. They had lived together for three years now and he still managed to call at the worst possible moments. Though Waylon has to admit, this one takes the cake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Accident

**Author's Note:**

> It's late and those twitter posts from Grawly are too hilarious to not write something on.

It really shouldn’t be all that surprising.

Still Waylon finds his lips drawn in a thin line from awed silence as he sits in the hospital waiting room. It’s crowded and loud and he swears the man ‘sleeping’ next to him may actually be dead. He despises hospitals along with their hyperactive staff and the knowledge that he has had to waste three whole days this month stuck here is more than bothersome. Let alone the fact he had just gotten back from an exhausting work trip coupled with several accidentally delayed flights only adds to his rising irritation.

Yet, he was still surprised.

Waylon has to give Miles credit though, the man had impeccable timing. They had lived together for three years now and he still managed to call at the worst possible moments. Though Waylon has to admit, this one takes the cake.

“Mr. Park?”

Waylon snaps out of his daze at the nurse’s voice when it cuts across the obnoxious waiting room chatter. He hastily, while making sure his sleep-drunk hands don’t drop anything, gathers up all his belongings before making his way through the maze of patients. He is quick to take notice of the sleepy annoyance on her face when he approaches and muses if he mirrors it. She attempts to turn her lips up in a bemused smile when he is within reaching distance, but her glassy eyes draw all of his attention. She doesn’t say anything when she leads him down the hallway, past rooms with patients sick-like-dogs and those who have allowed stupidity to take them. It was only a week and a half ago, however, that they were one of those patients suffering from mild idiocy.

“I told him he wasn’t the only one here for the same reason.” The nurse’s voice is husky and scratchy from talking all day most likely. Waylon tries to let out a laugh in response, but all that comes out is an exhausted sigh. She glances over to him with a look of pity sparkling in her eyes and asks with a humorous tone “You look like you’ve been dragged half-way across the country.”

Waylon doesn’t have the energy left for joking sarcasm so he just grunts in affirmative, he’s sure the dark circles speak for themselves. But the nurse persists with an expectant pause and he mutters “several delayed flights,” as sacrifice to her gossip hunger. She turns around after that with a little giggle, and Waylon muses that he has never been smacked with such a blatant example of schadenfreude. 

It takes a lot longer to reach the room then he’d like as the nurse works over Waylon’s misfortune on her tongue with peppered flare. He nearly asks her how she thinks the other nurses will react when she tells them, but he is too far gone to want to hear her assertive lying that she won’t. Though he does add some more fuel purposely by making sure to comment on the room number.

“We were in 107 last time.” He enters the room before she can ask for confirmation, but Waylon knows that those stumps Miles still calls ‘fingers’ are all the certification she requires. 

The room’s a single and Waylon is grateful for that, he doesn’t need to die of embarrassment in front of another due to Miles’ crude mouth. There’s a drawn open window letting in the chilly night air and Waylon huffs when he remembers his jacket is jammed in one of his over-stuffed bags. He grumbles noisily when he sees the covers on the large hospital bed rise and fall as, presumably, Miles sleeps soundly. His jealousy at the thought of Miles peacefully dozing, while he himself is still a wreck from unending complications, immediately lights the fire the aggravation at the day’s misfortune built up. He drops his bags without any warning when he reaches the cramped chair near the opposite end of the bed, and frowns when he spots Miles not asleep but messing with his phone under the covers.

If only.

Miles doesn’t even flinch as he continues to quickly text away on his phone, not even looking up before asking “So how was the flight from New York.”

Waylon bites his bottom lip to hold in a harsh criticism, he doesn’t need a word like ‘fucking prick’ to ring out down the hall, taking a moment to turn down his personal volume in preparation. “Couldn’t wait a few more hours?” He can’t tell if he meant that to be playful or cruel when he forgets to tone down his tongue’s sharpness. Miles is quiet as he swipes his thumb across his phone absentmindedly and Waylon feels like he could break the damn thing in half. He’s had enough irritations for the day and Miles’ sheepish attitude is barely stomach-able when he’s as mellow as can be.

“Ah, you know me, I’m as patient as a toddler.” Miles is still playing with his phone when Waylon grabs the chair and drags it along the floor over to the bed. He hopes he wakes up the whole goddamn floor with the racket. He goes over to the window and pulls it shut with a loud slam before plopping down in the chair with a stony frown. He feels like he’s going to break his teeth with how hard he’s biting down. He didn’t frantically grab a taxi and drive all the way here at two am for Miles to act like brat. He snatches the phone away from hands that offer no resistance and fights the urge to throw it across the room. 

It’s all over when those eyes finally look up at him.

The pent up rage that was burning inside him from the series of events that led to him winding up here whoosh out of him as he is flooded with shame. He sinks back into his seat as he gently sets the phone down as tired, embarrassed eyes regard him curiously. He knows he’s been up longer than Miles has, but that thought goes out the window, along with an ill feeling towards the other, in a second flat. He never could handle that kicked puppy look.

“How are you feeling?” Waylon asks, his voice is gentle but a little rough from some remaining chagrin. He notices Miles visibly relax and he feels his face flush when he hears the other let out a breathless laugh. 

“Fine, other than you know, a vibrator shoved up my ass.” Waylon buries his face in his hands before Miles’ finishes and thinks this is it, he’s going to die right here. He can feel his insides turn to ice when he remembers that the entire hospital staff knows about it and now they can add that to the list along with fireworks blowing off fingers and icy driveways breaking legs. “Jesus Waylon, I’m pretty sure they’ve seen and heard much worse,” Miles is laughing without so much as a tremble in his voice and Waylon wishes he had that much confidence. 

He removes his hands after a moment and when he does Miles is laying back against the pillows looking utterly defeated. There’s a goofy little grin on his face that Waylon can easily place from so many times after their more intimate nights and before he can question it Miles is already nodding. “Yeah, it’s still on.”Waylon makes an ‘oh’ face in muted shock, of course it would still be on, if he could reach up and turn it off they wouldn’t be here. 

“You want to hear it?” Miles is going to have sore cheeks tomorrow with how large that smile is, Waylon concludes, as he hesitantly nods. Miles pulls back the covers so Waylon can lean forward and rest his head against the other’s chest. Miles is unbearably warm when his cheek meets the soft skin and Waylon bets his cheeks are hotter when he feels them burn up from hearing the muffled buzzing in his ear. He sits up quickly with a gaping mouth and stares at the other with wide eyes, unable to even comment on how long that battery is lasting. Though Miles is already moving onto the next topic, eager to get him up to speed as he points at the x-rays on the walls Waylon failed to notice when he entered. He stares at them for a moment bemused at the oddly shaped device looking completely out of place among the bones.

“Wow,” is all he can make out after a period of silence, “you really got it up there, huh?” Waylon feels his face go red when Miles' grin widens to show his teeth and his eyes light up.

“You bet your sweet ass I did.” Of course Miles would find something about this to be proud of, though there’s a small part of Waylon that’s glad he doesn’t look as meek as before. 

“You tired?” Waylon looks up at him as he leans back against the bed and all of a sudden it’s like he’s pulled the plug and Miles can barely keep his eyes open. Miles hums in response as his eyes shut and let’s out a few barely coherent mumbles about sedation. Waylon chews on his lip as he wonders if he and Miles should take the chance to nap peacefully while they wait for the doctor, but he’s too amped up from the horrifying taxi ride over. So he grabs the chair as quietly as he can and scoots it closer to the bed before settling back into the plush cotton. 

Miles’ eyes are open again, although half-lidded a tad, when he looks back over and frowns in distress, “Did I wake you?” The other shakes his head lazily and stretches out, pulling the covers over him further with a sigh and Waylon doesn’t even think to stop himself when he leans over to kiss him softly. It’s deep and a little sloppy on both their parts due to exhaustion before Waylon pulls away while Miles whines in protest.

“Come on, Way,” Miles groans with a soft breath and Waylon finds it hard to shake his head. “You should really sleep,” Miles weakly waves him off but doesn’t push the topic any further, but makes his displeasure known with inaudible grumbles. Waylon rolls his eyes and kisses the other’s forehead before he leans back and sighs at the other’s smug grin.

It takes a half an hour before the doctor finally arrives and fixes Miles’ accident and another hour before they’re discharged. It takes three days for Miles to nearly do it again.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this really late last night before I went to bed, and I reread it when I woke up and I can't believe I posted this. I hope you all don't expect serious work from me because it will only go downhill from here, so buckle in.


End file.
